Oh, I am in love

forgive me, I'm playing with the colors a bit - don't go blind.)

It's Sunday morning, my one true love is sleeping still (on my pillow, of course,) and I'm up doing the morning chaos routine with my little beans. Oh how I love those little beans. Regardless - it's morning and the beans got their Apple Jacks and juice and then ran downstairs to have their computer time.

I gathered up my swimming pool of coffee and my knitting and started the hunt to find decent news on Sunday morning (really - do we honestly need to see The Hour of Power?) After watching all the CNN and MSNBC that I could stomach, I found a little lovely show on A&E called Breakfast with the Arts. Today I saw John Butler with The John Butler Trio.

The man is on FIRE

OH MY.

Perhaps I have missed the boat - perhaps everyone else in the world knows about John Butler - but it's new to me and I am curious as to how I have lived without this music for 29 years.

This trio of men, armed with a 12 string guitar, a small drum set, and an upright bass, belted out an AMAZING song that was just oozing with roots music influence. There was a taste of reggae, a hint of gospel, a dash of country, a splash of jazz, a heavy helping of blues.

Wow. I mean WOW.

Now I'm on the hunt. I may actually buy music for the first time in ages. He's AMAZING. The Trio is AMAZING.

I'm in love.

VJ and Me (yes, I swear, I'm wearing a shirt.)

Magic

Ring of Fire

Velma's Autumn

pictures

Here's some pictures - you've been asking.

The first is a picture of Velma and me. Back in CA, she's doing great - but I miss her and will find a way to kidnap her forever (Sorry, Mark. But, you can come, too!)

The next three are 3 of the purses I've knit and felted. FUN, huh?

Welcome Rootin' Tootin' Woo Hoo

A'ight, folks. We should have a new reader hailing from the Chicago area. He should become a frequent reader, regular commentor. He better or, well, I may just have a new picture to post.

Hee Hee.

Just kidding, JFL. You know I love you more than my luggage.

Because I can

Just 'cause they're so cool - I've posted pictures of my kids.

Stealth is upstairs carrying around a secret treasure trove in one of my old purses and Duck is building log cabins out of blocks while humming the music to Tetris.

So, here's some pictures of my kids.

in cahoots

private joke - wish I knew what it was about

monkeyzoo x 2

two angels

i wrote my name

monkeyzoo

bubbles

Life's eternal question ...

is what in the hell am I going to make for dinner?

This little tidbit of my life drives me insane. Seriously. Crazy.

I love to cook. I really do. In fact, I love cooking for large groups. It's just fun. But here's the catch - it's fun when someone else has my kids. It's very difficult to get things going all together on time with nothing burning when you have kids climbing up your leg saying, "Can I see, Mom? Mom, what's salmon? Mom, if we eat fish, are we going to eat our pet Nemo? WHY will a hot oven burn me? Can I taste that? How do you know that I won't like Rice Wine Vinegar straight from the bottle? What does C-A-Y-E-N-N-E spell and does it taste good?"

But even that is tolerable enough, I guess.

Everyday, however, I start looking through the pantry, fridge, deep freeze and curse the complicated dining habits of my family. Me, I'll eat damned near anything (white condiments excluded.) I used to be a lot pickier, but I think after you've eaten your 6 millionth half chewed soggy Cheerio that your toddler just MUST share with you, the temperature of your dinner is less than important. AH, I digress. My family, mostly the 3 Y chromosomes, make meal time something like a complicated Olympic worthy twisting, back flipping, high dive into a pool of Dammit, can we honestly be out of cheese AGAIN????

I'm partly to blame. My first child was such a picky eater, mostly because I was such a neurotic mother. Meal time was always a challenge with him and, as a result, the favorite phrase of this 5 year old is, "I don't like _______" (fill in the blank.) "I don't like N-E-W foods, Mom. I like regular foods" is a close second. Have I mentioned his obsession with spelling out words? Eh, another post.

My second child used to be such a delight at dinner time. He would eat anything and everything that wasn't nailed down. He never frowned or wriggled his nose. He ate everything. EVERYTHING and, as a result, has a very mature palate. He also has, however, a "My brother is GOD" complex going on, so if Brother isn't excited about eating it, neither is he. Guess which wins? Palate? Brother? Come sit down with us and see for yourselves.

Up until a couple of months ago, my husband worked much later than the boys needed to eat dinner. Their little tummies just couldn't wait until 7:30 to eat. So I made 2 meals. One for the boys and one for me and my husband. Of course, I wasn't going to make some big meal for the kids because they wouldn't eat it anyhow. So they got kid food (mac & cheese, chicken nuggets, grilled cheese, PB&J, you know.)

I ALREADY ADMITTED THAT OUR DINNER TIME PROBLEMS ARE PARTLY MY FAULT - GET OFF MY BACK.

But, now he comes home early enough to eat together and we have dinner, at the table, together. EVERY NIGHT. This has proven to be totally entertaining and great experience (look for the "I will destroy you" post coming soon.) But WHAT we eat there has not gotten any easier.

And then there is my husband who is semi-vegetarian (dietary, not ethical, reasons.) He will eat seafood, on occasion. I have even seen him sneak a piece of chicken here and there (although he denies it to no end and usually ends up getting sick afterwards.) So. That leaves us pretty much eating vegetarian meals mostly. Also not a problem, really. I mean, honestly, there's so many amazing recipes out there that it can almost make eating animal products obsolete (I said ALMOST. What? Do I have a saddle on my ass? No? Then stop riding it, thank you!)

But it DOES get repetitive, this vegetarian meal thing. I, myself, could eat pasta every meal of every day for the rest of my life (have I mentioned that I used to be overweight??? hmmm,) but I don't really feel good presenting my family with pasta every night as a meal. Same goes for rice and beans, mexican, etc.

Finding something that my husband can eat, my children will eat, that we can afford to make, that we haven't had a million times this week, and that frankly, I have any desire to consume after cooking it is kind of like finding a Republican at a gathering of The Rainbow Family of Living Light.

I was so smart this month. I sat down with my cookbooks, my check book, and my calendar. I wrote down a meal for every day of the month. Yep, just look at the calendar and say, "Ah ha! July 26. Fettucinni Alfredo with poached Salmon and tossed salad." BUT, what has actually happened is that we had that on July 22 instead of the Veggie Pot Pie because, frankly, "I don't LIKE pot pie, Mom." SO, he still doesn't like Pot Pie and we've already eaten the goods to make Fett Alf Sal and well, we had beans and rice last night and "ravioli just doesn't sound good tonight, Baby."

See where I'm going with this?

I have now spent close to 20 minutes writing this and intermittantly searching my recipe files and then running up to the pantry to see what's there. I'm telling you, multi-tasking is something I cannot escape.

BUT WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO MAKE FOR DINNER???

I tell you what! I think I know what I'm going to do for dinner. I'm going to make a pizza delivery dude's night. I'm gonna tip him well when he delivers my evening of peace and non-cooking.

"But, MO-OM, I don't like pizza."

Well, shit.

Child of mine

**********************************

Child Of Mine

by Gerry Goffin & Carole King

Although you see the world

different than me,

sometimes I can touch upon

the wonders that you see.

And all the new colors

and pictures you've designed,

oh yes sweet darling

so glad you are a child of mine.

Child of mine, child of mine,

oh yes sweet darling

so glad you are a child of mine.

You don't need directions,

you know which way to go,

and I don't want to hold you back

I just want to watch you grow.

You're the one who taught me

you don't have to look behind.

Oh yes sweet darling,

so glad you are a child of mine.

Child of mine child of mine,

oh yes sweet darling

so glad you are a child of mine.

Nobody's gonna kill your dreams

or tell you how to live your life.

There'll always be people

who make it hard for a while,

but you'll change their heads

when they see you smile.

The times you were born in

may not have been the best,

but you can make the times to come

better than the rest.

I know you will be honest

if you can't always be kind,

oh yes sweet darling,

so glad you are a child of mine.

Shorn locks

So, yeah, I guess many of you didn't know us when we were dreadlocked and long haired. I forget about this stuff. Brian did have a gorgeous mane, but it's long gone. This is what he looks like now. Hubba Hubba.

Not long enough

February 9, 2001. One O'clock in the afternoon. Boone County court house. Making something exist on paper that had existed in our hearts for a long, long time. B and I getting married. Duck was 8 months old and babbling in the background. That's Joe and Jennifer standing up with us - our best friends in the whole world.

It's been a few years since B and I found each other. 6 years, in fact (4 years of marriage.) That means that I've spent over 20% of my life being in love with him. Or, I guess you could say I've loved him my whole life - my life just happened to start at 23.

There is no one with whom I'd rather spend time . No one with whom I feel more safe. No one with whom I'd rather share life.Brian makes me laugh. He makes me think. He is the only person I trust completely. I look at him and my heart still jumps to my throat and my knees still shake.I hope that we're still laughing and loving when we're 100 years old. I hope that there is life after death because, frankly, 'till death us do part just isn't long enough.

It’s very clear our love is here to stay.
Not for a year, but ever and a day.
The radio and the telephone.
And the movies that we know.
May just be passing fancies and in time may go.
But, oh my dear, our love is here to stay.
Together were going a long, long way.
In time the rockies may crumble,
Gibraltar may tumble,
they’re only made of clay.
But our love is here to stay.

- George and Ira Gershwin

I now pronounce you man and wife